24 Jun A Hero Long Forgotten
I remember with vivid clarity my first day of school.
Walking hand in hand with my mom into tiny Fallston Elementary – unsure of this whole education thing…. the unfamiliar faces….or the lady that introduced herself as my teacher.
Mrs. Cline would turn out to be a Godsend – a warm and caring person that would help a shy little boy begin to find his way in life.
But what I remember most was the sight of a little girl walking down the sidewalk in front of my classroom with her parents – and the strange clacking apparatus that was fitted on both of her legs.
Her unusual gait – the odd, hollow sounds of metal against metal.
I stared. So did many of the other children.
My mom whispered to me that the little girl had suffered polio – and she needed braces in order to walk.
“She’s just like everyone else,” she said. “She’s just been sick…but she’s getting better now.”
I didn’t really understand. But polio, I decided, was a terrible, terrible monster. Much worse than a cold – or a belly ache. And I secretly prayed that it wouldn’t come for me – and put me in those metal things – and never let me run again.
It’s funny how certain images stay with you.
This one has.
That little girl would become a friend – and by the end of year I no longer saw the braces. She would travel with me over the course of my years in school – through elementary – junior high – and high school.
We all would learn that she was more than courageous – she was smart – she was pretty – and she made others glad to be around her.
It was my dad who eventually explained to me about the monster.
And the hero that slayed it.
He would often say, “We worship TV stars and sports figures and singers like they are the Second Coming….but Jonas Salk could walk down any street in America and no one would give him the time of day.”
Dad struggled with that hard truth.
Because Jonas Salk, you see – was the hero that no one ever really knew.
A medical researcher and virologist, he devoted 7 years to understanding the causes of polio – and in developing a vaccine to defeat it.
Even today that discovery is hailed as one of the greatest medical breakthroughs in the history of humankind.
Seven years after its introduction experts suggested that 10 million people globally had already been saved – exponentially more young lives that would have been forever crippled – spared.
And 20 years after that, polio had been effectively eradicated.
When I would talk with my parents about the fear that seized the world before Salk it was easy to understand my dad’s admiration for the man.
Polio was the zombie apocalypse long before Hollywood’s imaginary creation.
It slipped silently into children’s bedrooms – stripped away their ability to walk – or to breathe – or to live…. and then moved on in search of its next victim.
I list Jonas Salk among my list of heroes today – but for a reason that is perhaps even more remarkable than his scientific path of discovery.
That’s because when offered the opportunity to patent his vaccine, Salk declined.
In today’s world of self-promotion he remains – remarkably – an historic pariah. Far less interested in the acclaim – far more interested in the cure.
The most noted news correspondent of the day, Edward R. Murrow, captured the essence of the man in this interview with Salk in the late 50s.
“Young man, a great tragedy has befallen you—you’ve lost your anonymity”, said Murrow.
He went on to ask, “Who owns this patent?”
Salk replied, “Well, the people I would say. There is no patent. Could you patent the sun?”
The estimated value of that patent – in 1960 dollars – 7 billion.
But pursuing a patent would delay the distribution of the vaccine. That was not a plausible course for Dr. Salk.
He would spend the rest of his life in trying to advance science – and minimize his public profile.
He was highly successful with the former – marginally so with the latter.
Last week (June 23rd) marked the 28th anniversary of his death at age 80. There was, of course, little fanfare to mark the date.
My guess is that less than 2 in 10 American adults even recognize his name today – and an even smaller percentage across the globe.
But if we could step back to 1955 – and for only a few seconds embrace the terror that gripped the world – or the savior that would strike it down ….well, our answer would be quite different.
Heroes can slip quietly into obscurity – too often easily replaced by bad actors more focused on fame than accomplishment, more insistent on personal acknowledgement than contribution.
Perhaps that’s a commentary on the times we live in.
Maybe.
But we need more Jonas Salks walking the streets these days.
And a lot more of us that choose to recognize them.
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